The Taste of Ink
by kurt couper
Summary: He finds her. No one was looking for her, but he found her... Spawn COMPLETE.


This is a little song-fic about a couple that I love. If you don't like the couple, just imagine their names are someone elses.

The story is set in about season 6, but it doesn't really matter. The title and the song is _The Taste of Ink_ by The Used. It's a really great song, really. Sometimes, I have the song refering to the lady, and other times the man. But I think you'll catch on soon.  
Blah, blah, I own nothing. Not even the song.

I hope you like it.

* * *

Is it worth it can you even hear me, standing with your spotlight on me. Not enough to feed the hungry.

He finds her.

_I'm tired and I felt it for awhile now, in this sea of lonely. The taste of ink is getting old._

No one was looking for her, but he found her. She was laid out, sprawled against the long grass that inhabited the cemetery. Her dark hair was flowing behind her head that rested against the ground, her eyes were closed, and her cheeks were flushed, but her face was pale. She looked dead, he mused.

_It's four o' clock in the fucking morning. Each day gets more and more like the last day._

He smirked when he noticed what she was wearing. It was a little yellow dress with frills. One day he told her that he was tired of seeing her in all those black clothes and dark makeup. But he didn't mean for her to wear it like this. It contradicted itself.

_Still I can see it coming while I'm standing in the river drowning._

"This is getting old." His voice was tired and it barely left his lips. He said it to himself, but more to the Dawn that wasn't there. She's been doing this for a while now and the Scoobies were getting tired of it. Her. They told her to stop acting like a baby and to just grow up. But she didn't listen, so they just stopped caring.

_This could be my chance to break out. This could be my chance to say goodbye._

He didn't understand why she did it. Does it. She doesn't care anymore that there are nasties out there. She goes on at all times of the night and gets herself in trouble. He's scared one day he'll find her in an alley, beaten bloody, and dead.

_At last it's finally over. Couldn't take this town much longer._

He wonders what he should do with her. No one cares what happens to her. No one will be looking for her. And she knows that. Maybe that's why she does this every night. Maybe she's giving up the easy way, waiting for a nice demon to come along and tear out her heart or let her bleed to death.

_Being half dead wasn't what I planned to be. Now I'm ready to be free._

He picks her up and he swears everything is going to be different this time. It just _has_ to be because there isn't any lower you can get. Well, besides death. And he cradles her to his body, hers fitting nicely with his and he notices the bottle of Jack Daniels that is hanging from her left arm. He shakes his head and sneers. "At least she's going out with style."

So here I am it's in my hands. And I'll savor every moment of this.

And the bottle shatters once he brings her to the crypt. The shards fly everywhere and he shields her body, protecting it from the glass. Her eyes open with slow movement and she stares into his blue orbs. And he can see the cloudiness there from what the alcohol did. Her tongue sweeps over her dry lips as she stares at his. Leaning her head slowly closer to his, he grabs her lips into a swift kiss. She grabs onto his head and shifts her body so her legs are wrapped around his waist. He blindly felt for the wall and smashed her against it, making her let a yelp in return. He takes this as a sign and massages his tongue with hers. She takes her hand down to his pants and idly unbuttons them.

And he stares at her, his body tense with need and he can see that she's trembling underneath him.

_So here I am alive at last. And I'll savor every moment of this._

Her eyes are clear, suddenly sober, and she bites her lip, picking at the dead skin causing it to bleed.  
"You sure, Dawn" he asks, his voice husky and thick. She nods her head and smiled. He just said her name.  
"Yes, Spike. I'm sure."

_And won't you think I'm pretty when I'm standing top the bright lit city. And I'll take your hand and pick you up. And keep you there to so you can see._

And he's holding her now, her body is intertwined with his. Her head is on his chest and his fingers were playing with her hair. Her regular breathing was soothing him into a sleep, but he told himself to hold on just a little longer. He wanted to remember this, every detail. He wanted to remember how she smelled of cinnamon and vanilla and how her body glowed against his pale skin. He wanted to remember the way she would hold him while he was thrusting, as if she was never letting go. He wanted to remember how she screamed his name from the back of her throat, making it seemed like his name belonged on her lips and her lips only. And how he only wanted her lovely lips to say his name-not anyone else's.

As long as you're alive and care, I promise I will take you there. And we'll drink and dance the night away.

He smiled as he looked down at the lovely woman in his arms. How he wished he could keep her forever. He slowly fell to sleep after placing a kiss on the top of her head. He was glad that no one was looking for her. It meant he got to keep her longer. He was making sure she was safe by his side.

_As long as you're alive, here I am. I promise I will take you there._


End file.
